


Book II: The High Priestess

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, F/M, Fights, Fortune Telling, Magic, Minor Injuries, Mystery, Other, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: A midnight visitor, the Countess Nadia herself, comes with an interesting proposal for Shayde ... “Come stay at the Palace.” But there are complications right away when someone else comes calling that night. A supposed murderer, Dr. Julian Devorak.





	Book II: The High Priestess

Really though, a customer? At this hour? And an impatient one, by the sound of it. I press my face to the door to see through the peephole and peer out into the dark. A mysterious figure is standing in the glow of the lantern outside, that I did indeed forget to put out. My memory is truly awful sometimes. This stranger’s graceful hands are twisting together anxiously as they wait. Even in the dim light, I spy jewels glittering along their fingers. Their clothes are also very fine. Not what I was expecting at all. Something tells me to open the door.

“Forgive me for the hour, but ...“ The figure begins as they step inside and start to unwind the shawl from around their neck. I can hear the slight, but suppressed pleading tone in the voice, as though this stranger is unused to asking for things. “... I will not suffer another sleepless night. Please, you must read the cards for me.” The elegant cloth slips away, revealing the visitor’s face. Even in the dim light, I know her face at once. At the sight of her, my heart leaps into my throat.

“It has to be you.” Countess Nadia goes on with gravity. Every one knows the Countess by sight. Her dark olive skin and long purple hair is admired by all and envied by many. Now, she has a determined look in her garnet eyes as she looks at me. I can see that she does not plan to leave empty handed.

“You’ve come to the right place!” I reply. I have no idea where the words are coming from. I sound much more confident than I feel right now.

“So I am told. Your reputation precedes you. Beggars and nobles alike ... The people of this city whisper your name in wonder. Though in my dream you were ... different.” The Countess pauses for a moment and I wonder if it was actually Asra she was referring to, but she shakes her head and continues before I can offer that suggestion. “No matter. I come with a proposal.” My mind is racing, trying to process everything and all I can produce is a one worded question.

“Dream?” I ask simply.

“Yes. An unwelcome ability I have come to possess.” She answers with a melancholy expression on her face. “My dreams are haunted by visions of a future waiting to unfold. But the future I saw, the one that brought me to you ... is one I will not allow to pass.” Her words are filled with passion and my curiosity is piqued even more.

“Tell me, magician. Will you hear my proposal?” That is the second time she has mentioned a proposal. I admit, I’m very curious to hear the details.

“Proposal?” I inquire. The one word questions have not gone unnoticed by the Countess it seems, because she smiles at me. Almost as if she finds my behavior cute or amusing.

“Not very talkative, are you? Nervous, perhaps?” She asks, but again goes on before I can speak. “You needn’t be. I require very little of you. Be my guest at the Palace for a short while. You will be afforded every luxury, of course. It is as my dreams foretold. I only ask that you bring your skill ... and the arcana.” I’m not one to argue against dream prophecy, but ... the _arcana_ ... that sounds so very familiar. Where have I heard that before? Oh, right. Asra’s Tarot deck. It’s true name, is the arcana. I make the decision right then to help the Countess.

“I am at your service, Countess.” I say. She practically beams at me.

“You have chosen wisely, magician. I will alert the guards to expect you tomorrow. But before that ... I want to see these talents of yours for myself. Shall we do a reading?” The Countess asks. Under her rather imperious gaze, I usher her to the humble back room. The Countess seats herself across the table from me. Her gaze darts around the small space before falling on the cards sitting just where I’d left them on the table.

“Go on.” She urges. As I shuffle the deck, she folds her hands before her and closes her eyes. Once I have the cards laid out on the table, I draw one and turn it face up on the table between us.

“... The Magician.”

“How very appropriate.” The Countess observes with some irony. She peers down at the card, studying its face carefully. “And what does he hold for me?” My mind is clear. The answer comes to me as easily as ever.

“You have a plan.” I say to her.

“Go on ...“ The Countess seemsto be very focused now, as I relay what I am hearing from the card on the table.

“One that is long in the making. Years upon years. Now, you seek to set it in motion.” I can see the surprise and barely restrained excitement on her face as she listens.

“And? Should I move?” She asks. Her eyes pierce me, flashing brilliantly in the lamplight. I know exactly what to tell her.

“Yes. Act now. Everything has fallen into place.” I announce firmly. I never get a chance to elaborate.

“Say no more.” The Countess declares. Abruptly, she stands, giving the card one last glance. I’’m barely on my feet when she throws back the curtains, striding purposefully back into the shop proper.

“Your fortunes are simple. Much the same as the others I’ve heard. And yet ... you are the first to pique my interest.” She says, almost to herself. By the time I’ve emerged, the Countess is at the doorway, winding the shawl around her face. I’m standing quietly, wondering if I should be offended that she called my fortunes ‘simple’ when I hear her clear her throat.

“Ahem.” When I look up, I see her standing by the door, as if waiting for me to rush over and open the door for her. I meet and hold her sharp gaze as I plant my feet, unmoving. The Countess looks vaguely amused at my actions as she opens the door herself.

“Until tomorrow, then. Rest well.” She says, with a glance over her shoulder. “And do try not to pout.” With that, she strides out into the night. For a moment, I am frozen, staring after her figure long after it has vanished into the mist. What could the Countess want with me, a mere apprentice? All that talk of my ‘reputation’ ... Once again I wonder, could it be that she mistook me for ...?

“Strange hours for a shop to keep.” A strange voice speaks seemingly from nowhere. Who said that? My gaze darts around the shop, chasing the shadows in the dark.

“... Behind you.” The voice taunts. Sure enough, when I turn, I see a figure looming against the door to the back room. The stranger is tall, ridiculously so. His hair is a wild, curly auburn, but I can see nothing else of his features because of the mask he wears. A white plague doctor’s mask with eyes made of red glass. He is dressed totally in black and red. I’m stunned enough that I don’t react right away, so the stranger speaks.

“Now sources say this is the witch’s lair.” He drawls. “So, who might _you_ be?” My heart starts racing as the masked intruder advances toward me. As soon as the intruder finishes speaking, I swing for his head.

“Ah ha! You’ve got guts!” He sounds delighted. “En Garde, then. Let’s see what else you’ve got.” I’m somewhat irked by his taunt, so I launch a magical attack at him. He only laughs.

“Oh, has he been teaching you his tricks? Unfortunately for you, I’ve seen them all befo-“ I launch a bottle at his head then, cutting him off mid-word. Apparently, he hasn’t see that trick before.

“Ack!” He cries. Knocked loose by the blow, the stranger’s mask clatters to the floor. My racing heart stops still when he lifts his gaze to mine, peering at me through the blood running from the cut on his temple.

“... You _do_ have guts.” He says, sounding casually impressed. I don’t answer. I knew of this man once. Everyone did. He was infamous. Back then, they used to call him ...

“Doctor Jules?” I whisper almost in shock.

“Haven’t heard that name in years.” He mutters before refocusing his one grey eye on me. The right eye is covered with a black eye patch. I’m slightly concerned at how pale he is, but that must be because of wearing the mask. “Quickly now. _Where is the witch?_ ” Witch? He must mean Asra. I harden my resolve.

“I’ll never talk!” I state firmly. This intruder needn’t know that I can’t tell him even if I wanted. Asra never tells me where he is going.

“I thought you might say that.” Doctor Devorak says as he wipes his bloodied brow, mood darkening. “Well, no sense in wasting the visit. You’re a fortune teller, aren’t you?” Before I can ask what he is going on about, the Doctor speaks again.

“Tell my fortune and I’ll leave you in peace.” As he speaks, he flashes me an oddly charming smile ... Huh? I’m somewhat thrown by this sudden shift in conversation and tone.

“That _is_ what the back room is for, isn’t it?” He asks. I give a hesitant nod, unsure of the motives for his odd request. And what else would the back room be for?! I can feel myself bristling at the unspoken implication.

“After you, then.” The Doctor bows me toward the curtains, in what would seem like a gentlemanly gesture if it wasn’t for that damned grin. He drops himself into the reading chair, looming fearsomely over the small table.

“You know, I used to love places like this.” That doesn’t sound like it needs a reply, so I hesitantly take my seat, his cold eyes tracking my every move. Unnerving, to say the least.

“Go on. No need to be shy.” He says. Well, _he_ certainly isn’t shy, so maybe I should be. But I don’t voice this. For the third time tonight, I lay out the cards face down. Only one is turned face up. As soon as the card is flipped, my mind starts racing. Nothing comes to me but the pounding of blood in my ears.

“... Death.” I say, simply.

“Death?” He questions as if he didn’t hear or understand. I seem to have caught him off guard, if only briefly.

“ _Death?_ ” The Doctor says again, incredulous this time. He barks with uncontrollable laughter, sharp and cold as ice. I’m stunned silent by his outburst.

“You’ve got to be joking.” He sneers at me. I jolt as his hands strike the table, and he rises to his feet.

“Death cast her gaze upon this wretch and turned away.” He snarls, self-hate dripping from the words. “She has no interest in an abomination like me.” Overcome with confusion, but very curious, I follow at the Doctor’s heels as he leaves the back room and heads for the door. He appears calm when he turns to me again.

“You’ve been hospitable, so I’ll let you in on a secret.” He begins. “Your witch friend will be back for you. He’s taught you his tricks. You may even say that he cares for you. But when he returns ...” He lifts his mask from the floor where it had fallen earlier, staring into its glassy red eyes. “Seek me out. For your own sake. That creature is far more dangerous than you know.” I’m more confused than ever now, but Doctor Devorak doesn’t let me ponder his words long.

“Well, then. The hour is late, and I’m out of time.” After giving me a long, hard look, the Doctor fixes his mask into place. “Don’t let him fool you, shopkeep.” Are his parting words to me before the door slams behind him. He quickly disappears into the early morning fog. This has been a strange night.


End file.
